


a shot in the dark

by remuslupin



Category: Chronicle (2012), Dane Gang - Fandom, Kill Your Darlings (2013)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-15 16:05:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5791933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remuslupin/pseuds/remuslupin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>sometimes, friendships are formed in ways one would least expect. Hogwartsverse! Dane Gang fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a shot in the dark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aisu10](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aisu10/gifts).



> i have no idea what to put here but basically, i decided to write a short little fic about lucien and andrew (aka aisu and my children) for aisu's birthday!!! happy birthday (again)!!!!!!

He always sleeps with his curtains drawn. 

That’s one of the only things that Lucien Carr knows for sure about Andrew Detmer (along with his name, of course-- and the fact that he, too, is a first year Slytherin). He also knows that the pair of them have identical schedules, Andrew  _ always  _ sits as close as possible to the door during meals, and Lucien sits next to him in Potions-- and even then, it’s only because his cousin Draco had tried to sit next to him, before Lucien had hurriedly called Andrew over as if they were the best of friends. Andrew had (thankfully) played along, but hadn’t exactly invited any further interactions between the two. 

Any and all conversation made involving Lucien during Potions from that point on had only included their two other tablemates, Kjell Claesson (Halfblood, Hufflepuff), and Nelson Steinberg (Muggleborn, Ravenclaw. Lucien likes to keep track of these things-- yet somehow, has not yet been privy to the information pertaining to  _ Andrew’s  _ blood status).

Despite all of this, though-- and despite his absolutely  _ dazzling  _ personality-- Lucien hasn’t managed to extract any further information from his inexplicably enigmatic classmate. 

Which, of course, frustrates him to no end. 

He’s fairly certain that the lack of socialisation is intended to be innocuous, though-- he hasn’t really seen Andrew voluntarily spend time with anyone else (unless you count Sandy, the turtle that he somehow managed to bring into Hogwarts; and really, no one ever does), so Lucien has assumed that he just prefers to be in his own company; which is  _ also  _ something that frustrates him to no end. 

It’s hardly as if he hasn’t  _ tried _ , though. Merlin, Lucien has tried to initiate conversation with Andrew, while utilising every bit of charm that he’s assembled into his arsenal over the past eleven years-- shields, defences, protections against people looking any deeper into his character than he’d like them to-- but every single time, he has been deflected with a shrug, or a one worded answer. 

The only time he’s ever gotten  _ close  _ to a proper conversation with Andrew was in November; and even then, there hadn’t exactly been any  _ speaking  _ between the pair. It had been a rather short encounter-- they had both been walking towards their Transfiguration classroom, Lucien surrounded by friends, and Andrew a few metres up ahead (alone), and  _ someone  _ had shot a hex at Andrew. Not a particularly awful one; but it was bad enough to embarrass him as all of his books shot from his hands and landed, scattered, along the hallway. 

Andrew hadn’t known who the culprit was, but Lucien did; and after Draco Malfoy had realised his hair had turned bright red, courtesy of his own cousin-- “ _ I look like a bloody Weasley! _ ” were his exact words, Lucien believes-- Andrew’s gaze had met with his own, and they had smiled at each other. So, maybe they hadn’t exactly spoken…. But it was  _ something _ , at least. 

Something that caused Lucien to become even  _ more  _ fascinated with his housemate-- and it was at this moment that he realised that one way or another, he absolutely  _ had  _ to get to know the wizard behind the smile. Unfortunately, though, any and all subsequent attempts to further befriend Andrew had turned out to be terribly unsuccessful. 

Well, until now.

 

\--

 

Lucien is woken up by a scream.

Immediately, his mind has jumped to the worst conclusions, and he’s already firmly grasped his wand (it’s on his bedside table, rather than underneath his pillow-- he’s heard plenty of horror stories about people accidentally jinxing their own ears off in their sleep) before actually picking up on the reactions of his other roommates. 

The tired, annoyance-filled yell of “Shut  _ up _ , Detmer!” from Harry Osborn’s bed (he’s a Pureblood student from America, and he’s been acting like a slick git ever since he found out that he has the same name as Harry Potter) is what tips him off. Lucien sits up, squinting at his surroundings in an attempt to see what’s going on. What little light that the window offers (as well as giving the room’s occupants a clear view of the black lake, like a muggle aquarium) shows that Blaise Zabini (Pureblood) is awake, and glaring towards the drawn curtains surrounding Andrew’s bed, and so is Osborn, Draco, and Gregory Goyle. Crabbe is asleep, but Lucien isn’t surprised-- that boy could sleep through a cyclone.

He’s snapped into action as Blaise finally throws a pillow in the direction of Andrew’s bed, and aims a withering glance at his dorm-mates, a gaze that very clearly tells them all to  _ ‘shut the hell up or else’.  _ Wand still in hand, he is silent as he climbs out of his bed and tiptoes towards Andrew’s.

Ever so carefully, he pulls the curtains apart by a fraction and peeks through them, just hoping that he won’t scare Andrew even  _ more  _ as he does so. He doesn’t even look up, at first-- Lucien can faintly see that he has his face buried in his hands-- so the blonde clears his throat quietly, before slowly climbing in next to Andrew.

“Andrew--”

“What are you-- go away!”

“No.”

“--Fine, then  _ I’ll  _ leave--”

Obviously, their relationship is off to a  _ fantastic  _ start.

Andrew has already begun to scoot towards the edge of the bed as he spits out that last sentence, but he stops in his tracks as Lucien reaches out and takes hold of his hand. “Just-- hold on, would you? I want to  _ help _ .”

He casts a weak ‘Muffliato’ curse around the bed, so that the pair aren’t at risk of any more complaints from their housemates-- it doesn’t usually stifle anything louder than a whisper whenever Lucien casts it (which is what usually disappoints his mother more than when she actually catches him staying up later than he should be), but hopefully it will serve it’s intended purpose tonight-- before looking back at Andrew, and feeling rather proud of the grudging respect that shines through in his expression.

“So.. What was your nightmare about?” Lucien ignores the disbelieving look that Andrew shoots him-- the one that clearly says ‘you can’t just ask someone that you  _ barely even know _ those kinds of questions, bugger off’-- in favour of continuing to speak, still holding onto his hand as if he’s afraid that Andrew will run as soon as the opportunity arises. “Oh, come  _ on _ , it’s not like it’s some big secret that you’ve been having them. Besides _ , everyone  _ has nightmares. I mean-- I have them, too.”

Andrew’s still staring at him like he’s stupid. Lucien takes a deep breath, lets it all out in the form of a sigh, and continues. “My mum let me use her wand a few times when I was younger, though, so she could teach me a spell to keep all the night terrors away.” He raises his own wand, bottom lip jutting out slightly in concentration, before speaking quietly, but clearly. 

“Lumos.”

The light coming from the wand is feeble at best, but it still casts a halo of luminescence over the pair, and he can already see Andrew visibly relaxing under the glow of this new light source. It’s not the  _ biggest  _ change that he could have hoped for, but it still brings a smile to Lucien’s lips. What actually surprises him, though, is the  _ verbal  _ reaction that he then receives.

“Would… Would you teach me?”

As if he hadn’t already been planning on it.

“Am I the best at Potions?” Is what he asks in return, amused expression implying that the answer to his question (which is, of course, yes) will also be the answer to Andrew’s. He’s glancing towards where the bedside table sits behind the closed curtain, lips already parting in preparation to ask Andrew where his wand is, when his roommate speaks up once more.

“Second best.”

Lucien’s jaw drops-- actually  _ drops--  _ before the beginnings of a laugh tumble from his lips as he shoves lightly at Andrew’s shoulder. “Sod off! Do you want me to teach you, or not?”

“Yes, yes, I do. Sorry.” At least he has the decency to look  _ slightly  _ abashed.

Lucien nods rather sanctimoniously-- well, to _him_ it’s just his usual demeanour-- before clearing his throat and straightening up. In the silence, Andrew has retrieved his wand (from under his pillow, no less. Merlin’s Beard, does _anyone_ ever heed warnings of experienced wizards?), and it becomes very clear to Lucien that he’s gripping it the way he should be gripping a _broomstick_ as his gaze falls on Andrew’s hands. Clearly, this is going to be a challenge.

“Hasn’t anyone in your family even let you  _ hold  _ their wand, just to show you  _ how  _ to hold it?” He tuts, letting go of Andrew’s free hand to grab his other, and forcibly loosen his grip. In doing so, he thus misses the uneasy frown that then crosses Andrew’s expression. “You don’t have to squeeze the  _ life  _ out of it, just-- let it fit into your hand. Your wand is your partner, you have to treat it right.”

The next few minutes are quietly spent tutoring Andrew on how to hold his wand, and Lucien is quickly informed that it’s a dragon heartstring core when it gives off light sparks underneath his touch (wands with dragon heartstrings always find it rather difficult to change allegiances, especially if it’s temporary). He assures Andrew that his own wand (phoenix feather, with elm wood) is much more temperamental, and only produces it’s usual sophisticated results whilst in his hands. 

It’s also been known to act on it’s own at times, which is why Lucien doesn’t simply assume that he’s going barmy when out of the corner of his eyes, he sees his wand give off a faint glow. The space is brightened, although not by much-- but he can still see Andrew relax a little more as it happens.

The first time Andrew tries the spell for himself, his wand is unresponsive.

“Are you sure you’re--”   
“I’m holding it right!”

“Okay, okay. Try again.”

His second attempt produces results that are much the same, and this time, Lucien realises that Andrew’s wrist-work needs...well,  _ work _ .

“Here, look--” His hand is curling around Andrew’s own without any thought, and he pointedly ignores the way his friend (is that what they are, now? friends?) stiffens beneath his touch, in favour of looking straight at the wand, and hoping that the dim light doesn’t give away any clues in regards to the fact that a light blush has dusted over his cheeks.

“You have to flick your wrist-- like this.” He moves slowly, so Andrew has time to relax his wrist, but before his roommate can also find the time to complain or resist, Lucien is lifting their hands in a sort of gentle spiraling motion. 

The tip of the wand lights up underneath their manoeuvre, and it takes a few moments for Lucien to realise that Andrew had whispered the incantation as their hands had first moved.

“That was excellent-- you did much better than what  _ I _ can usually manage,” Lucien whispers, unable to stop the twinge of jealousy that tugs and curls it’s way around his heart until Andrew looks up at him, expression shining even brighter than the wand.

“Maybe it was the result of  _ our  _ magic-- our  _ combined  _ magic.”

Lucien finds himself liking that idea very much.

It’s at this point that he figures that he’s done as much as he can to help Andrew, so he lets go of his roommate’s hand, quietly scooting towards the edge of the bed until his arm is grabbed, and--

“No.” 

“No?”

“Um, I mean-- you wouldn’t mind  _ staying…  _ Would you?”

“--No. Of course not.”

Lucien inches back towards him, and climbs underneath the covers after watching Andrew do the same. The light from his wand disappears as the pair lie in silence, simply staring up at the ceiling as the atmosphere around them begins to turn terribly awkward, before Lucien sighs loudly, turning to face his bedmate before scooting closer to him. He spends only a few moments worrying about the possible repercussions of his actions before finally pushing his forehead against Andrew’s shoulder, whilst simultaneously lifting a hand, and curling it into the soft fabric of the brunette’s shirt.

He can feel Andrew tense up-- he actually feels his heart  _ skip a beat _ , and his own flutters wildly in response-- before his bedmate is finally relaxing, and timidly placing his hand over Lucien’s own.

“...Goodnight, Lucien.”

“Goodnight, Andrew.”

Maybe they didn’t quite know each other yet-- but this was a start. 

Besides, Lucien always  _ did  _ love beginnings.


End file.
